


wait somehow (in that place between now or never)

by tamquamm



Category: Breaking Bad, El Camino - Fandom
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Typical Jesse Whump, El Camino - Freeform, M/M, Non-detailed Death Idealization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 19:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21041369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamquamm/pseuds/tamquamm
Summary: It’s so fucking stupid. After all, Mr. White was always going to die.That’s why he’s here in the first place, isn’t it? Because Mr. White was dying from day fucking one. He’s had all this time to accept that. To be ready for this exact thing.Yet here he is.





	wait somehow (in that place between now or never)

Mr. White is dead.

Maybe it’s just chance that he finds out when he’s safe, or well. When he’s pulled over for a rest. Maybe not, maybe the universe planned that out for him. Just one small mercy. Pity from fate? Something like that.

Jesse doesn’t process it right away, can’t make sense of the words. That’s gotta be how shock works, right? The radio guy is so matter of fact -- so _ cold _ \-- when he says it. When he says they found his dead body at the crime scene. 

Jesse hadn’t even known, he didn’t even think. He just ran away and left. He left him there. He fucking left him to die.

But. God, what does it even matter? He was going to kill him anyway, he was going to shoot him right in the fucking goddamn face, he’s thought about finally getting to fucking kill Mr. White every single day for the last however many months it’s been. Mr. White is dead, just like he’s wanted, just like he almost made sure of for himself just days before. This is what he wanted.

Jesse is hit with a flash of the memory, still painfully fresh, of holding that fucking gun with shaking hands. Of leveling it dead straight at Mr. White. Of fingering the fucking trigger and willing himself to pull it, to finally fucking pull it.

But Jesse remembers the moment, remembers the wave of everything that had hit him all at once. The deja vu of aiming right between Gale Boetticher’s scared eyes. The too-familiar voice in his head chastising him, sounding too much like Mike. The supercut of every memory of Mr. White that’s refused to be rewritten, even now. 

The same supercut that hits him now, flashes of every kind word and smile and look that Mr. White had gifted him. And that’s what each one was, Jesse knows that now. Has known this, come to terms with it. Maybe even before. Maybe all along. They were carefully spaced gifts to appease Jesse, to keep him under the spell. Not freely given, not special in the way Jesse had wanted. 

He knows what it was to Mr. White. What _ he _ was to Mr. White.

And that’s what makes it hurt that much more. Knowing that after everything, after all that time, he’s still sitting here, contemplating sleeping in his fucking car, upset about a dead Mr. White.

It’s so fucking stupid. After all, Mr. White was always going to die. That’s why he’s here in the first place, isn’t it? Because Mr. White was dying from day fucking one. He’s had all this time to accept that. To be ready for this exact thing.

Yet here he is.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting when he put on the news. Skinny had told him not to. Told him to just keep driving and not scare himself with shit like that, better not to lose focus. Jesse didn’t listen, so maybe it’s his own fault. 

He doesn’t know what he thought he could get out of it. Maybe to see if they’re looking for him. Scratch that, he already knew that. Maybe to see what they know, how close they are to catching up. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t this. 

Definitely wasn’t a dead Mr. White, so nonchalantly thrown onto the news like the fucking stock exchange. 

Mr. White is fucking dead. He’s gone. _ Gone _ gone.

Jesse doesn’t know if he should be upset or jealous.

* * *

“I’d switch with you if I could,” Jesse says into the blankets, quiet enough that maybe he’s hoping that Mr. White won’t hear it.

“Why would say that,” Mr. White glares at him from where he’s collecting his shirt off the floor. He shakes his head as he starts doing up the buttons, bottom to top like the fucking weirdo he is. 

“I don’t know,” Jesse tries to backtrack, stretching out on a yawn. He’s still comfortably tangled up in the sheets, not so much sweaty anymore. Mr. White sways in and out of the moonlight as he dresses, his shadow cast across the bed. 

Jesse continues, albeit tentative, maybe too confessional than he’d like. Than Mr. White would like. But whatever, he’s still kind of fucked out and feeling ballsy. “You have stuff to live for, you’ve got a wife and a kid and a whole ass baby coming. What do I have? World wouldn’t even notice if I'm gone.”

“You shouldn’t think like that,” Mr. White says, but doesn’t look at him this time, distracted with getting his belt done up. “Life is a precious thing, don’t take it for granted.”

Jesse rolls his eyes, sits up a little, propping himself up on an elbow. “That’s what I’m saying, though. I’m not taking it for granted. I think it’d be better spent for you.”

“This is a stupid conversation,” Mr. White snaps. “Because I’m the one who’s dying, anyway, and there’s nothing anyone can do about that.” He’s done getting dressed now and Jesse half expects him to leave on that, but he surprises him. He doesn’t, he sits on the bed and reaches out, rubs at Jesse’s thigh through the covers. 

“Don’t take _ your _ life for granted, Jesse,” Mr. White tells him, softer now but firm. “When I’m gone… take your money, go back to school, make something of yourself. You have it in you to do something with your life. You’re still young, you have so much ahead of you.” He sighs, a little shaky, and Jesse isn’t quite sure what to make of that. “Don’t waste it.”

Jesse looks away then, even considers yanking his leg away, out of Mr. White’s reach. But he doesn’t, he stays where he wants him. Chooses his battles.

But Mr. White isn’t dumb. He knows Jesse better than that by now, knows him well enough to read him, to recognize his tells. He squeezes Jesse’s knee, forces him to look at him again. To look him in the eye under all his scrutiny and judgement and everything else. 

Jesse feels completely naked, and it's not just because he physically is naked and Mr. White is dressed now. It's like. Emotionally, or what the fuck ever. He doesn’t think about it too much because that’s too much to dissect right now.

“When I’m gone, you go and get as far away from this as you can. And don’t look back.” He swallows, looks at Jesse with the saddest look he’s seen from him. It’s a little startling, really. Jarring, even. “Can you promise me that?”

Jesse shifts a little uncomfortably, but he clears his throat. Nods. “Yeah, uh, I can do that. I’ll do that.”

Mr. White leaves it at that, quick out the door and driving home to his family not long after. Jesse knows how this works, has always known how this works. He shouldn’t be surprised, but he can’t help the feeling. He doesn’t even know what he wants here. Cuddles? Kisses? Sweet fucking nothings? What kind of pussy ass shit, who the fuck is he?

It’s a moot point -- it’s _ dumb _ \-- because Mr. White is already gone, anyway.

* * *

There are things he has to do, things he has to do _now._ Everything is time sensitive, everything has to be right on the dot. There’s not a lot of escape routes left here. He’s got one shot. He doesn’t have opportunity nor time to fuck it up.

So there isn’t any more time to mourn Mr. White, there isn’t more time to envy him. Isn’t more time to contemplate his options. His alternatives.

Jesse starts the car, tries not to think about. Tries to focus on the goal here. 

Tries to focus on his promises.

**Author's Note:**

> Back to my roots, the origin of my AO3 username, hello hi it's been a long five years since I last wrote BrBa stuff but if Jesse Pinkman is back then so am I! I have a lot of feelings about El Camino so please buckle up for whatever I manage to come up with :') The title of this fic is from [_Where No One Knows Your Name_ by Stereo Honey](https://genius.com/Stereo-honey-where-no-one-knows-your-name-lyrics)
> 
> My fic twitter is @[pinkmanite]() but fair warning I write a lot of hockey fic these days, as well 😅 Please just shoot me a DM that you came from AO3! 
> 
> Thank you for reading 💙


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